The Puzzle Mystery
by Merenwen Calmcacil
Summary: Nancy and Ned went their separate ways. He went into law enforcement. She joined the FBI. They never saw each other again. Until a serial killer brings them back together. Now they have to remember how to be a team before one of them is the next victim.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Okay, several years later here's take two of this story. I've always thought about it and wanted to continue/rewrite it. I just rediscovered my childhood obsession with Nancy and Ned by playing the Nancy Drew computer games, which are awesome and totally fun by the way. So here's an updated version of The Puzzle Mystery. I promise to continue it next time. The first chapter doesn't really contain any new information, but it's been completely rewritten. Hope you enjoy!

WASHINGTON D.C.

Nancy sighed heavily and pulled her titan hair back away from her face. Using the hair elastic she always kept around her wrist, she secured it up in a messy bun and then adjusted the reading glasses on her nose. Her back was starting to cramp, but she was so close to a breakthrough she could feel it. There was something in the stacks of files that covered her antique coffee table that would blow the case wide open. She could feel it in her bones. There just had to be something there that gave her a clue about this murderer.

The twinge in her back grew to a constant throbbing. Nancy set the open manila folder on her lap over onto the couch cushion beside her and stood up to stretch her aching muscles. It was already almost two in the morning. She'd been at it for hours. The breakthrough she'd been seeking just wasn't coming. This wasn't what she'd imagined when she'd joined the FBI three years ago. She'd known there wouldn't be any more buried treasures or missing heirlooms. But she hadn't expected this. She'd expected drug cartels and theft rings. She'd expected the occasional missing diplomat or heiress. She hadn't thought about the death. She hadn't expected the murders.

It was the biggest case of her career. It was the biggest case the FBI had seen in years. People were calling the butcher who'd left a string of bodies up and down the east coast a modern day Jack the Ripper. The crime scenes were the most gruesome she'd ever seen. Bodies taken apart at every joint and strewn across a room. The actual locations, usually abandoned warehouses, weren't the first time law enforcement would see the crime scenes though. The bastard was taking pictures of his victims while they were still alive and turning them into 1000 piece puzzles. They'd arrive in boxes wrapped in brown paper on the door step of the closest police station. No finger prints. No DNA. No suspects. The media had started calling him the Puzzle Murderer.

She crossed over to the window looked down at the busy street. Pulling aside the gauzy white curtain, Nancy pressed her forehead against the glass. Two a.m. and Washington D.C. was still alive beneath her. It was so different from quiet River Heights. Life certainly hadn't turned out the way Nancy Drew expected. She'd thought she'd be married by 26, but there she was with no boyfriend in sight and not even enough spare time to keep a goldfish alive. Her father had gotten her one because he didn't want her living alone it DC, not that the goldfish would have been able to do anything. It was just a weird surge of over protectiveness upon his only child officially moving away from home.

Nancy had graduated from Wilder single after breaking up with (or being dumped by depending on who told the story) Frank Hardy. She was tapped by the FBI at her graduation. An agent was waiting for her at the door before she could even go out and find her dad or Hannah. He'd introduced himself as Agent Stone, given her his card and told her to call him if she was interested in a job. A week later she was starting the training academy. The rest was a blur of cases, stings, under cover ops, bodies and coffee. So much coffee. Nancy hadn't slept more than four hours a night in two years. Not since she'd been assigned to homicide. The victims and their families haunted her dreams.

Her alarm would go off in just under five hours. Nancy sighed heavily and made her way back toward the pale blue sofa. Hannah had decorated the apartment. She'd flown down from Chicago after Nancy finally got tired of living in a hotel room armed with Carson Drew's credit card and fully furnished the one bed/one bath apartment Nancy had found in the heart of the city. It was like an extension of the house in River Heights with its pastel colors and white accents. Or, at least it could be if Hannah would ever let Nancy leave her files scattered across every stable surface and dishes in the sink.

Nancy closed the file she'd been looking through and attempted to neatly stack them before sticking them in her brown leather satchel. Her days were on repeat. She was in the office by eight to start pouring over files to see what she was missing, rarely took a lunch break and then packed everything up to take home and sit on her couch trying to find the same clues that had been evading her all day. What Nancy would give for a missing treasure. What she would give for a missing antique locket and to be able to run around the country in her blue mustang with Bess and George. Those days were long gone though, and all Nancy could do was fall into bed and repeat the previous day all over again.

…

DALLAS, TX

Ned was regretting that last beer. He had been celebrating the night before. He'd just gotten promoted. The entire precinct had taken him out for a drink. Everyone wanted to buy him a round. But in the light of the bright Texas sun, he was regretting it. It was his first day as a detective and he was more hung-over than he'd been after his last Omega Chi party back at Emerson. He sat in his new office with the shades drawn, the door closed, the lights off and his head down on his desk, trying to block out the day.

If you'd told Ned Nickerson six years ago that he would drop out of law school and decide to become a cop, he would have politely laughed in your face. He would have done it politely, because his mother raised him far too well to ever be deliberately rude. The only time he'd ever done something that could be construed as rude on purpose was that time he'd punched Frank Hardy in the jaw, and that was entirely justified. Other than losing Nancy to that jackass, Ned had had everything going for him. He'd been on the fast track to a position in a lucrative law practice. He'd gotten accepted into law school and had landed a really great summer internship in Chicago.

Then Ned's cousin Kevin's daughter, Vikki, disappeared from their front yard. There were no leads. No suspects other than Kevin and his wife, Melissa. There was no body. There was no justice. There was just a series of mistakes made by the Mapleton police department and a broken hearted family. Ned wasn't so interested in law school after that. He didn't want to ever have to defend someone he knew was guilty. He didn't even want to be a prosecutor. He wanted to prevent things like that from ever happening. His parents begged him not to, but he rescinded his acceptance to the University of Chicago's law school and enrolled in the police academy instead. He graduated at the top of his class and then moved to Dallas because they were hiring and it was far away from all of his memories of Nancy Drew.

Ned had to thank her though. Nancy was probably more than half the reason he was a good cop. He knew how to judge a suspect's character by one conversation. He knew how to sit still through a stakeout. He also knew the best snacks to bring, although that was probably as much due to Bess as to Nancy. He had a sixth sense about dangerous situations. He always knew the exact moment to dodge a bullet. On its toughest day, the police academy was easier than being Nancy Drew's boyfriend.

"Hey, Nickerson," his friend and former beat partner, Rick, called. "This package came for you."

"Who's it from?" Ned said.

"No name," Rick said, handing Ned the box wrapped in round paper. "I shook it. Sounds like cookies. There's probably a note or something inside. I bet it's from one of those girls at the bar last night interested in the new detective."

"Man," Nate said setting the box down on the desk and lifting up a taped flap. "You were shit at guessing your Christmas presents, weren't you? This thing is way too light to be cookies."

"Just open it," Rick said, sitting down in one of the rickety folding chairs on the other side of Ned's desk.

Ned carefully peeled away the paper and frowned at the plain cardboard box that was inside. This wasn't from one of the police bunnies, the women who hung around cop bars hoping to snag themselves a police officer husband. Their boxes were almost always white or some sort of pastel color and they couldn't help but deliver them in person. It was kind of sickening. They'd hang around outside the precinct at the end of the day and fall into step with you offering to make you dinner. They didn't send anonymous brown boxes wrapped in brown paper. Ned lifted the lid and frowned.

"It's a jigsaw puzzle," he said, frowning.

"What's it of?"

"Does it look like there's a picture on the damn box?"

"Somebody's a little hung-over," Carter grumbled as Ned dumped the pieces out on his bare plastic and chrome desk and started sifting through them.

"Who brought you this package?" Ned said, shoving his black leather chair back away from his desk.

"One of the rookies," Carter said, standing up as well. "Walters I think."

Ned walked out into the bull pen and looked around. Walters was standing over by the water cooler laughing at a joke one of the other guys just said when Ned barked out his name. The younger cop nearly jumped out of his skin and turned to look at where the voice had called from.

"Where'd the box come from, Walters?" Ned said, grabbing the younger man by his crisp blue uniform shirt.

"Some guy handed it to me," Walters said, struggling out of Ned's grasp. "He said to give it to the new detective."

"What did he look like?" Ned said.

"I don't know," Walters shrugged. "Just a guy. He had on a hat. I didn't see his face."

"Do you know what kind of hat it was?" Ned said, slowly releasing his clenched fist. "Anything? Anything at all?"

"No," Walters said, smoothing out his shirt.

"Because you're the first person to see that puzzle killer that's been terrorizing the east coast and live."

Walters reached for the nearest waste basket and puked.

…

WASHINGTON D.C.

Nancy was slowly spinning in her black leather desk chair. One second she was staring at the wall and the next she was looking down out of her office in the J. Edgar Hoover building onto the bustling D.C. street below. The case was at a standstill. There was no new evidence or new leads. At least there wasn't a new victim. Nancy just wasn't sure what to do next. All of the victims were young prostitutes. He didn't exactly have a type. It wasn't like they could pinpoint his next victim and take her into protective custody.

Bess had called that morning when Nancy was getting ready for work. She wanted Nancy to go back to River Heights for the weekend. Knowing Bess it would be more like Chicago. It would be a marathon shopping spree to get Nancy in something other than an FBI regulation black suit, followed by dinner at a ridiculously expensive restaurant and clubbing at some trendy new night club. Nancy had agreed if only to get out of D.C. for a few days. Maybe a weekend away was exactly what she needed to gain some perspective. Maybe if she put all of her case files aside for a day or two, she would see something that she'd been missing. Her father had already promised to look into booking her a ticket for Friday night. A two hour flight and she'd be home.

"You're bag packed, Drew?" her boss, Assistant Director Stevens said, poking his head in the door.

"What?" Nancy said, frowning.

"Looks like your Puzzle Murderer or whatever the press is calling him is moving west" he said. "We just got a call from the Dallas PD. A new puzzle got dropped off at one of their precincts this morning."

"But our guy has been going up and down the east coast," Nancy said, frowning. "What if it's just a copycat?"

"You're our expert on the case," Stevens said. "You've got three hours until your flight. I suggest you get a bag together and get to the airport. They're sending the detective who got the box to pick you up at the airport."

Nancy sighed heavily. Bess was going to kill her. This would be the fifth time she'd had to bail on their plans in the last three months. She hadn't seen Bess or George in her dad's birthday in February and that was five months ago. She also wasn't looking forward to Dallas in the middle of July. D.C. was hot, but Texas would be an oven. It was probably only a copycat killer anyway. The last murder was in Rhode Island. What was the chance that he'd gone all the way to Texas for his next victim?

She stuffed all of her files back into her satchel and slung the strap across her body. Digging her cell phone out of her bag with one hand, she walked down the hall to the elevator and pressed the down button. She was just missing the lunchtime rush as she made her way outside and hailed a cab. Her fingers finally closed around the plastic of her cell phone and she dug it out after sinking into the back seat of the cab that smelled faintly of cigarette smoke and body order.

"Hey, Nan," Carson Drew said. "I just checked into flights for you and… You're calling me to tell me that you can't come, aren't you?"

"Sorry, Dad," she said, sighing. "Something just came up. I have to fly to Texas."

"It doesn't have anything to do with that serial killer, does it?"

"Yeah," Nancy said, running the fingers of her free hand through her hair. "I don't think this is our guy, but it's my case. I have to check out every possible lead."

"Just be careful," he said.

"I always am…"

"The decrease in my health insurance premium says something different about that."

"I will, Dad," she said. "After this is all over I'll take that vacation time I've been saving. I'll come home for a week or two."

"Promise?" he said.

"Promise," she replied. "I love you. And give Hannah my love too."

"Will do," Carson said. "And I love you too."

…

DALLAS, TX

Ned never should have stopped drinking. His hangover was long gone, but if he'd given it the never failing college cure of more in the morning, the situation would be so much more bearable. There was a chance it wasn't her. Drew wasn't the most uncommon last night. But how many female FBI agents with the last name Drew could there be? Shit. He hadn't seen her in five years. He hadn't talked to her since a brief phone conversation the day of Vikki's memorial service.

"_I'm so sorry, Ned," Nancy said, sniffling. "I could take a look at the case if you want. See if there's anything…" _

"_No," he replied. "No, Nancy. There's nothing you can do. Nothing anyone can do." _

And now he was in the baggage claim waiting for her plane to land. He'd tried to get out of it. He'd almost sold Rick on it when Chief Ennis over heard him. Apparently it had to be Ned. He was the one that the guy had sent the puzzle to. Ned had no idea how the guy had even known about Ned's promotion, but he did. It was kind of unsettling, knowing that a serial killer was aware of his existence. He wasn't a young blond or red haired prostitute though, so he was pretty sure he was safe.

Well, he was physically safe at any rate, mentally he wasn't so sure. Nancy Drew had just walked into the baggage claim. Her carefully tailored black suit pants emphasized her long slender legs, and her white blouse showed off her slender build. Her titan hair was longer than he ever remembered it. It probably reached her shoulder blades, and she had it pulled back with a thin black headband. She had her black suit jacket draped over her arm and her fingers were curled tightly around the strap of a dark brown leather satchel. Nancy hadn't spotted him yet. He could tell by the way she let herself sigh heavily and sag her shoulders just a little. She looked tired. It was more than just the long day she'd obviously had too. She looked like she'd been tired for a long time.

Her eyes widened when she finally spotted him, and she stopped in her tracks. She studied his face for a moment before she slowly made her way towards him, a hesitant smile on her face. He held his breath as she walked towards him and swallowed deeply as she came to a stop in front of him. They both stood there for a long moment before Nancy smiled awkwardly and shrugged her shoulders.

"Detective Nickerson, I presume?" she said, smiling wider.

"Special Agent Drew," he said, shaking his head. "It's good to see you, Nan."

"Should we hug or something? Or would that be too weird?"


	2. Chapter 2

"So you're a detective now?" Nancy said, smoothing her hands over the slacks. "Bet you never saw that coming."

"Nope," he said, drumming his fingers against the black steering wheel as he waited for the light to change. "Sure didn't. I like it though."

"Good," she said, nodding.

It was awkward. It was so awkward. Nancy had never felt so awkward in her life sitting there in the passenger seat of Ned's black SUV. And that included having to fly back from Greece sitting next to Frank the day after they broke up. To anyone who didn't know Ned as well as she did, he would look completely calm. But she did know him, so she could see the way he was clenching and unclenching his jaw. He was obviously as uncomfortable with the situation as she was. She remembered Hannah saying something about him moving to Texas, but she'd thought it would be for law school. She never thought in a million years he would be the Detective Nickerson picking her up at the airport.

"How have you been?" she said, looking over at his profile.

"Good."

"How do you like Dallas?"

"It's fine," he said.

"Ned," she said, angling in her seat so she was facing him. "Please don't be like this."

"Let's just talk about the case, Nancy," he said, shifting gears as the light changed and pressing the gas.

"Okay."

"The puzzle arrived just after nine this morning," Ned said. "It was handed to one of the rookie cops as he was on his way into the building with instructions to give it to me. A couple of the guys put the puzzle together after dusting everything for prints. It shows a young woman, probably mid-twenties with blond hair, bound and gagged in the middle of an abandoned warehouse. We've got some people trying to find all of the possible locations in the city and then checking them out in teams of three. Last I heard they still hadn't found anything."

"Okay," she said. "Does the officer who received the puzzle remember anything about the man who gave it to him?"

"Nothing" he said, shaking his head. "Wasn't even paying attention."

"Of course he wasn't," she said, sighing. "A member of law enforcement actually comes in contact with this guy, and we've still got nothing."

"Tell me about it," he said, sighing heavily. "You're not hungry or anything, right?"

"Don't worry about it, Ned," she said. "I'll order room service at the hotel. It's on the Bureau."

He nodded, and then they went back to awkward silence. Nancy adjusted the seatbelt so it wasn't rubbing her neck and turned to look out the dark tinted window. Sitting in the passenger seat next to Ned Nickerson brought back so many memories. If she ignored the stony silence on his part, she could be eighteen again. She would give a lot to be eighteen again. The SUV was certainly every guy's dream, all black and chrome both outside and in. The radio was turned low, but she could still faintly feel the pounding of the bass in her seat.

Suddenly they were turning into the hotel parking lot. Ned was getting her bag out of the back of the SUV while Nancy stood there awkwardly looking down at her shoes. He set the black bag down on the sidewalk and didn't let go of the handle for Nancy to take it. He might basically hate her, but he was still a gentleman, Nancy thought with just a twinge of self-directed bitterness. They went to the front desk and Nancy got her room key. Then Ned followed her up to her room on the fourth floor.

"Thanks," she said, swiping the key card and taking the handle of her suitcase.

"I'll be by to pick you up at 7:45, okay?" he said. "Take you down to the precinct."

"That would be great," she said, nodding. "Thanks, Ned."

"Okay," he said. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Nancy didn't hear his footsteps until after she'd slid the deadbolt and chain on the hotel room door. It would be so much easier if he just treated her with complete indifference. Nancy sighed and dropped her satchel onto the small round table in the corner of the room. She pulled out her cell phone and then flopped down across the dark green patterned bedspread. Punching in number 3 on her speed dial, she pressed the phone up to her ear and listened to it ring.

"If you're calling me to tell me that you aren't coming to River Heights this weekend after all I'm hanging up right now," Bess said.

"What if I told you that Ned just picked me up at the airport?" Nancy said.

"Ned?" Bess said. "As in Ned Nickerson? As in Ned Nickerson whose heart you shattered into a thousand pieces when you chose Frank Hardy over him? As in Ned…"

"Yes, Bess," Nancy said. "That Ned."

"What have you not been telling me, Nancy Eloise Drew?"

"I'm just as surprised as you are. I got sent to Dallas for a case, and he was who they sent to pick me up at the airport."

"How is he?" Bess said. "How does he look? Is he seeing anyone? Do you think he's still in love with you?"

"He's good," Nancy said. "He looks the same. Exactly the same. We didn't talk about personal stuff. Just the case."

"That means he's not."

"He's not what?"

"Seeing anyone."

"How do you figure?" Nancy said.

"If a guy doesn't come out and say to his ex-girlfriend that he's in a relationship, then he's not," Bess said. "Guys are like genetically programmed to brag. Especially to their exes. If he was seeing someone, he would want you to know."

"I don't know, Bess," Nancy said, kicking off her black pumps. " He could have a wife and a kid and a house in a suburbs for all I know. I'm not here to get back together with him anyway. I'm here for a case. And he just happens to be my contact with the local PD. It doesn't mean anything."

"Of all the cops in Dallas," Bess said. "Your contact is the one who just happens to be your ex. It's the one guy who's always there in the back of your mind on every first date or even every time you flirt with some guy at the coffee shop or your gym. It's the one guy you just can't seem to forget no matter how hard you try. You can't tell me that's not fate, Nance."

"You make me sound like a crazy person."

"Crazy in love, maybe."

"It's been years, Bess," Nancy said. "Literally years. He's definitely over me by now."

"But are you over him?"

"I'm going to go now. I still need to eat dinner, and Ned's coming to get me early tomorrow so we can get to work on the case."

"You didn't answer my question, Nancy Drew."

"Goodbye, Bess."

…

Ned sighed with relief as soon as he walked into the bar. He loved O'Brien. It was the best cop bar in town. Law enforcement got a huge discount, so the alcohol was the good stuff, cheap and plentiful. The lights were low and the smell was just the right mix of cigarette smoke, leather polish and whiskey. There was always a good song on the juke box in the corner and a pretty girl to warm your bed that night if you wanted. Ned didn't avail himself of the "badge bunnies" that often, but they were always there if he wanted one.

"Hey," Rick called as Ned over to the bar. "I thought you were never drinking again."

"After the day I've had, you're gonna have to carry me home tonight," Ned said, shaking his head and then signaling to the bar tender. "Scotch on the rocks, please."

"Going straight for the hard stuff too," Rick said. "Was the suit really that bad?"

"She's my ex," Ned said and then downed his drink in one gulp.

"Not Nancy…"

"Yep," Ned replied, wincing at the burning sensation in his throat and motioning for the bartender again. "Just leave the bottle man, I'm gonna need it."

"The Nancy Drew?" Rick said. "The girl you babble endlessly about whenever you're drunk?"

"I do not babble," Ned said, tossing back his second drink.

"Man, I know your entire life story with that girl," Rick chuckled. "I know about how the world stopped turning the first time you saw her and how you're first kiss was under the bleachers after a football game. Not to mention the fact that I can list every case you ever helped her with and give you an exact blow-by-blow of your breakup…"

"I get the picture."

"You are one unlucky son of a bitch, aren't you?"

"Thanks," Ned said, pouring himself another drink. "You're a really good friend, you know that?"

"I'm the best friend _you've _got."

"I think I need to find some new friends."

"Don't you think you ought to slow down a little?"

"Nope," Ned replied, just beginning to feel the soothing buzz of the alcohol mixing with the blood in his veins.

There was something about Nancy Drew that made Ned feel out of control. Just her name was enough to send him to the bar or the liquor store on his way home from work. To say that she'd done a number on him would be a bit of an understatement. They'd been so young when they'd met, but Ned had been convinced that she was going to be the one. It was crazy. Usually it was the girl who would say things like that, but he'd been sure. He'd been so sure she was going to be the one. He was pretty sure she'd thought the same about him until Frank Hardy entered the picture. Nancy'd flirted before. Hell, she'd flirted in front of him before, but there was something different about Frank. There was something different about the way she talked about him. Ned should have seen it coming. But he'd been too stupid or too in love with her to notice that she was pulling away.

He liked his life though. He liked Dallas. He liked his job. And he even liked the friends he had there no matter what he might say about Rick in his worse moments. Rick was the first friend he'd made when he joined the force. When Ned had arrived in Texas, he'd been the yankee rookie who didn't like sweet tea, which was apparently a capital offense. Rick, being from Michigan but having already been there two years, took Ned under his wing and cultivated Ned's taste buds so that he could appreciate the signature drink of the South.

Nancy Drew just had to waltz back into his life. She was _that girl_ for him. She was the one you always wondered what had happened to. She was the one you tried to subtly drop into conversations with your mom to see if there was any new gossip. She was the girl who you dreamed about on the nights you were so tired you could barely keep your eyes open and couldn't put up your mental barriers against.

"So, how does she look?" Rick asked before taking a sip of his beer.

"The same," Ned sighed, picking up the bottle of scotch and setting it down again. "She looks the same."

"Do you think she still has feeling for you?"

"It's been five years, man," Ned said. "I would say that door is officially shut."

"For you or for her?" Rick said. "Because, five years or not, you're not over the girl you still talk about when you're drunk."

"Trust me," Ned said, giving in and pouring himself another scotch. "I'm not going there again. Not with her."

"Is she hot?"

Ned shot his friend a dark look.

"What?" Rick said. "If you don't want her, I've always wanted to see what one of those straight laced FBI chicks is like in bed."

"You lay one hand on her and I promise they'll never find your body."

"Chill, dude," Rick said, laughing. "You should see the look on your face. I give you three days before you're at least thinking about getting back together."

"I'd take that bet," Ned replied, still glaring at his friend.

"You just wait, man. You and Nancy Drew, let's just say you don't hang onto a girl like that for nothing. You wouldn't be on your fifth scotch if there wasn't still something there."

…

Nancy pulled down the hem of her skirt and checked her reflection in the bathroom mirror for the seventh time. She should wear pants. She should really wear pants. It was going to look like she was trying too hard if she wore the black and grey pin-striped pencil skirt. But it made her ass look fantastic before she even had heels on. Every girl should have a skirt like that and wear it as frequently as possible. Bess had picked it out the last time Nancy was in River Heights. It wasn't something she felt like she could wear around the guys at the Bureau she saw every day, so she had it in the garment bag she had packed and ready to go in case she got sent out on assignment at a moment's notice.

Her ass did look really great though. That had to count for something. And it went well with her red silk blouse. Also, the suit jacket that went with it was short sleeved, and it was unbearably hot in Texas. It was the perfect excuse to wear it. She looked good. Bess would completely approve of the outfit. Especially since Bess had also picked out the black Prada pumps Nancy was planning to slip on. Oh no, not the Prada. No, she was definitely trying too hard. She had to stop. She reached for the side zipper on the skirt just as there was a knock on the door.

"Nancy?" Ned called. "Are you ready?"

"Almost!" she answered and sighed in frustration as she went to open the hotel room door. There was no way she could change now. "Come in and have a seat for a minute."

"I brought…" Ned's mouth opened and closed as his eyes ran over Nancy from the top of her head and to stop at her skirt. He swallowed hard and then looked her in the eye again. "Coffee. I brought coffee."

"Thanks," she said, turning back to go into the bathroom and smiling in satisfaction. "I'll be ready in a minute. I just need to put my hair up."

It had been the exact reaction Nancy hadn't even known she was looking for. His mouth had obviously gone dry at the very sight of her. It was nice to know she still had some sort of effect on him. She picked up her wooden backed brush and carefully brushed her hair back so that she could smoothly twist it up into a bun. She secured it with an elastic and a couple of bobby pins, and then swiped her nude colored lipstick over her lips before making her way out into the bedroom. Ned was sitting in the corner at the small table in the corner of the room drumming his fingers on his knee as his eyes darted around the room.

"Okay," she said, slipping into her shoes and grabbing her suit jacket off its black velvet hanger. "I think I'm ready."

"Great," Ned said, hopping up from the green upholstered chair and almost upsetting the cardboard coffee carrier he had sitting on the edge of the table.

Nancy bit her lip to hide her smile as she looked down at her suit jacket while she buttoned the large circular buttons. It was almost like their first date when Ned had taken her to that dance at his parents country club. He'd acted just as nervous when he watched Hannah help her into the light sweater Nancy's adopted mother insist she wear at least to and from the car. Nancy grabbed her satchel from where it rested on the floor next to her neatly made queen-size bed.

"Did you sleep well?" Ned asked after they made their way out of the hotel room and were walking down the hall towards the elevators.

"Pretty well," she said, pressing the down button. "I'm pretty used to sleeping in hotels after all these years. It's all the same darkness, right?"

"Yeah," he said, handing her a coffee cup. "I guess. You still take it with two sugars, right?"

"Perfect," Nancy said, smiling at him.

"Great," he said. "Listen, Nancy, I…"

Ned was cut off as three screaming kids pushed their way between him and Nancy to get into the just opened elevator with their frazzled parents just a few steps behind them. Nancy grimaced before stepping in with Ned on her heels. The kids jumped up and down in the elevator no matter how many times their parents told them to stop. Nancy was never so glad that they were only going down a few floors. If they were sent crashing down the shaft, at least they weren't that far up from the ground. When they weren't jumping, they were screaming. Nancy had never been so glad to faintly hear the ding of the elevator before in her life.

Whatever Ned was going to say he completely seemed to forget about though by the time the elevator doors opened and the kids spilled out into the lobby so they could take off screaming towards the pool. Nancy looked up at him expectantly for a moment before he stepped out of the elevator. She looked down and followed him with a heavy sigh. The moment was lost. Whatever the moment had been. Which she didn't really know. And the awkwardness of the night before returned tenfold.

…

"Can I see the puzzle?" Nancy said, sitting in Ned's desk chair and pulling files out of her satchel. "The pieces have been dusted for prints, right?"

She was sitting there slowly turning the chair back and forth as she looked over the case file in her lap. It was probably the most surreal experience of Ned Nickerson's life. He'd thought it was bad picking her up at the airport, but seeing her sitting in his white walled office behind his desk drinking what had to be her fourth cup of coffee of the day out of his Dallas Cowboy's mug that Rick had gotten him to help him blend in the office even though he was a die-hard Bears fan.

"Just mine," Ned said with a heavy sigh. "I touched it before I realized what it was."

"It's okay," she said as Ned carefully passed her the cardboard that the puzzle had been assembled on. "There haven't been any so far. God, I just wish this guy would make a mistake already."

"They always do eventually," he said.

"And innocent girls die in the meantime," she said, brushing a stray lock of hair back away from her face. "Sometimes I really hate my job."

"Really?" he said, sinking down into one of the chairs across the desk.

"Yes," she said. "No. I don't know. Doesn't everyone?"

"Wasn't this like your dream or something?"

"Dreams change," she said, looking up at him for a moment and then back down at the puzzle. "Any luck finding the warehouse?"

"So, this is the fed," Rick said, sauntering into Ned's office. "Special Agent Drew, right?"

"And you are?" Nancy said, pushing the black leather chair back away from the desk.

Ned had never hated his friend more than when Rick was perched on the edge of Ned's desk openly and probably successfully flirting with Nancy Drew. Nancy leaned forward to rest her elbows on the edge of the desk and cup her chin with her hand. She tilted her head to the side and arched one eyebrow. It was a look Ned was familiar with. It was a look he was so familiar with. Nancy was interested.

"Officer Rick Lewis," Rick said, holding out his hand. "I'm on the narcotics beat ever since this lug decided to go for detective."

"You were partners?" Nancy said, her eyes darting to Ned.

"Yeah," Ned said. "Ever since I joined the force. But someone decided that he didn't want to take the detective's test with me."

"What can I say?" Rick said. "I like being a cop."

"As long as you love what you do, right?" she said.

"That's what I keep telling this guy," he said.

"So, we should probably get back to talking about the case," Ned said. "We've still got about 20 locations that could be our crime scene."

Nancy's eyes shifted back to Ned, and he watched her shoulders sag. That was when he noticed that Nancy was not the same girl he'd known since he was sixteen. That Nancy would have zoomed in on the mystery and been completely unable to focus on anything else. That Nancy would have had the usually sparkle in her eye over a case. She would have been unable to talk about or focus on anything else. This Nancy seemed like she'd almost rather talk about anything else.

"How many officers do you have checking the warehouses?" she said, looking down at the puzzle again. "Based on the shelves in the back and the large amount of empty floor space, I'd say it was probably used for shipping. Have you excluded all the others?"

"We've limited it to just the shipping warehouses," Ned said. "And we've got 30 officers in teams of three checking them."

"Okay," she said, nodding. "And the officer who got the puzzle, he doesn't remember anything? Has he been questioned again?"

"All he can tell us is that the guy was wearing a baseball cap that was probably navy blue," Ned said. "And he remembered yesterday afternoon that the guy was wearing a grey hoodie."

"Sounds like a million other people in this city," Nancy said, shrugging out of her suit jacket. "Although, he probably should have stood out a little more. Wearing a hoodie in this damn heat."

"You'd think," Rick said, causing Nancy to jump. "I didn't mean to scare you."

"It's okay," she said, smiling at him faintly. "We just… Used to do that a lot. Kind of felt like old times there for a minute."

"Yeah," Ned said as his phone started to vibrate on the desk. "It did. It's Carlson. He's one of the officers checking out the warehouses. I'll put it on speaker This is Detective Nickerson."

"Hey, Detective," Officer Carlson said. "We found the place. You're gonna want to get down here. It's at the corner of 16th and Laredo."

"We're on our way," Ned said. "Be there in ten. Do you think it's the puzzle killer?"

"I think it's a monster."

_A/N: Sorry for the long wait between chapters. I was in my last semester of college and it was just so crazy! I'm officially a graduate now, though, and I plan on getting a lot of writing done over the next few weeks. My goal is to get a lot written in advance so I can try to stick to a weekly schedule. I appreciate everyone's patience though._


	3. Chapter 3

Nancy sat in the passenger seat of Ned's SUV with her hands tightly clasped in front of her. God, that guy was sick. Her hopes of a copycat killer and a quick return to D.C. had been shot down completely when she saw the carnage waiting for them in that warehouse. It was the guy's twelfth victim, and the crime scenes still made her stomach turn. Ned wasn't looking any better as he rested shaky hands on the steering wheel and breathed loudly. She'd tried to prepare him on the drive over, but there really was no preparation for a scene like that. It was hard to tell that the poor girl had ever been human after everything that sick freak had put her through. It would take ages to build an image of what she'd once looked like.

"God," he said, running his fingers through his hair. "I'd heard about this guy, but I never expected that. I never... How could you do something like that to another person? It's just sick!"

"I know," she said, exhaling heavily. "You know, I thought I knew the darker side of humanity. I thought kidnapping sick or senile old women for ransom was about as low as you could get. But it seems like stealing candy from the grocery store compared to this."

"Yeah," he said. "I couldn't imagine getting any lower than locking people in sheds on snow covered mountains to freeze to death."

"That only happened the one time," Nancy said, smiling grimly. "And it was pretty easy to get out. We had a whole tool box to get the hinges off the door."

"You always were good at getting us out of whatever scrape you got us into," he said.

"I had some help," she replied as she looked over at him out of the corner of her eye. "We should get to the coroner's office. See if he's uncovered anything."

Nancy could hardly blink as they silently drove back to the police station. She was afraid if she closed her eyes for too long, the images they'd seen in that warehouse would be burned into her eyelids. There just was no getting past the image of someone's intestines wrapped around their head like a macabre wreath. All she wanted was to go back to the hotel and wash the smell of death from her skin. Twelve crime scenes and you'd think she'd be used to it, or at least a little more immune, but honestly, each one just made it worse. They had to catch that guy. He couldn't be allowed to do that to another girl.

"Nancy?" Ned said. "Nan? Are you okay? I've been calling your name for five minutes."

"I will be," she said, brushing her side bangs away from her eyes. "As soon as we catch this guy."

"You'll get him, Nan," he said as he smoothly pulled into a parking spot in front of a grey cement building. "You always get your man in the end."

"I'm not so sure of that anymore."

They walked side by side into the cool coroner's office, and Nancy sighed in relief to be in out of the heat. That warehouse had been like an oven and the drive back hadn't been long enough to give them a chance to fully cool off. Ned led her down a long, nearly silent corridor to the autopsy rooms in the back. He opened the steel door and stepped aside so she could enter first and then followed close on her heels.

"What have you got for us, Dr. Gibson?" Ned asked as they approached the table.

The coroner looked up at them in his white lab coat and grimaced. Nancy was relieved that the short, somewhat squat, man with thinning brownish grey hair had had the decency to cover up the poor girl with a sheet all the way other her head. There wasn't an inch of her body that didn't show the ordeal she'd been through.

"Well," Dr. Gibson said, moving to stand across the table from them. "I can't get a precise time of death from the body temperature. It was at least 100 degrees in that tin box, so that kept the body quite warm. Based on the lack of insect activity though, I'd say probably less than 24 hours."

"So probably right after the puzzle was delivered?" Ned asked.

"That seems the most likely scenario," the older man said. "Now, most of the wounds were inflicted post-mortum. You can tell by the way the blood pooled in the abdomen. It's hard to tell because of the extensive bruising and tissue damage, but I would say that the cause of death was probably strangulation. My professional opinion is that the killer is more interested in dissecting the bodies and subsequent mutilation than he is in causing the victim pain."

"Is that consistent with the other victims?" Ned asked.

"Yeah," Nancy said. "It's the same guy."

"I did find something interesting," Dr. Gibson said, reaching for an evidence bag sitting on the metal instruments tray next to the autopsy table. "This slip of paper was in the victim's mouth. It was inserted after the victim was already deceased, so it wasn't too damaged by saliva. I'm not sure what the message is about, but it will probably mean something to you."

Nancy pulled a pair of latex gloves out of her satchel and slipped them on before taking the evidence bag from Dr. Gibson. This was the first note the killer had left, and Nancy prayed her hands weren't visibly shaking as she opened the plastic bag and reached for the rolled up slip of lined notebook paper. She felt Ned move closer to read over her shoulder as she straightened

the scrap out.

_So nice to see the two of you together again, Special Agent Drew and Detective _

_Nickerson._

First her body flushed hot, and then a chill settled so deep in her bones, Nancy didn't think she'd even feel the hot midday Texas sun. She stepped back and felt Ned's hand cup around her elbow to steady her. His other hand came up to brace her as well, and Nancy sank back against him. He knew who they were. That sick freak knew who they were, and even seemed to know something about their history together. This wasn't just some sociopath with a fetish. This was a sociopath with an agenda, and that made it so much worse. The guy had been toying with

her, getting he involved in the case so he could get her right where he wanted her. Now that he did, it was just a question of what he was going to do next.

…

Ned watched as Nancy slowly sipped the herbal tea one of the female officers had brought her after they'd returned to the precinct. She'd barely spoken since they'd read that note at the coroner's office, and was sitting there silently with her hands locked in a death grip around his Dallas Cowboys mug. He sat there slowly flipping through the files she'd brought from D.C. with her looking for similarities between the victims and waiting until she was ready to talk.

Nancy might not have been saying anything, but he knew her mind was whirling at a million miles an hour.

"Is it the same guy?" Rick said as he walked in to take a seat next to Ned.

"Yep," Ned said, giving his friend a grim smile.

"So the lovely Special Agent Drew will be staying with us for a while?"

"Looks like it."

"Is she okay?" Rick asked.

"She's thinking," Ned replied. "She does this sometimes when she needs to process something."

"Must be some heavy duty thinking."

"Okay," Nancy said, loosening her grip on the mug and setting it down on his desk with a dull thud. "This guy knows us. That means we probably know him too. We need to call my dad and get him to overnight all of my old files. If he knows us, he had to have come into contact with us at some point during one of my cases."

"It would be faster to fax them," Rick said.

"You don't know how extensive Nancy's files are," Ned said. "It would take a week. She was a pretty famous amateur detective before she joined the Bureau. She probably solved hundreds of cases."

"Really?"

"It was a long time ago," Nancy said, waving her hand dismissively. "And Ned exaggerates. It wasn't hundreds."

"It obviously wasn't that long ago to this guy."

"So what next?" Ned said, closing the files and handing them to Rick.

"He's made contact once now," Nancy said. "He'll do it again to make sure we got his message. In the meantime, we go over my old cases and see who might be capable of this."

"What I don't understand is why he's doing this now," Ned said. "We broke up five years ago. Why is he coming after us now?"

"I guess we'll just have to ask him," Nancy said, smiling grimly.

"You're not getting anywhere near him," he said.

"I think the FBI will say differently," she said, arching one perfectly shaped

eyebrow.

"Nancy, this guy's got a personal vendetta against you."

"Against us," she corrected.

"You're as damn impossible as ever, you know that?"

"I'm not 17 anymore, Ned. I don't need you to protect me."

"Have you seen what that sick bastard does to women, Nancy?"

"Like hell I've seen it! You've been on this case for what, a day? This has been my life for the last six months! And if you think I'm just going to sit back and let you play cowboy or some shit like that..."

"This, right here," he said, the vein bulging in the side of his neck. "This is why we broke up. Your complete disregard for your own life."

"No," she said, rising to her feet. "We broke up because you refused to believe that I wasn't sleeping with Frank Hardy."

"I'm going to leave you two alone…" Rick said, slipping out of the room.

"You started dating him literally two weeks after we broke up!"

"I wouldn't have started dating him at all if you hadn't stopped trusting me!"

"Oh, yeah," Ned said, running his fingers through his hair. "Because you were just so trustworthy. Do I really need to remind you of all of the other guys you flirted with while I was around? Let alone the ones when I wasn't!"

"I never cheated on you," she said, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Maybe not physically, Nancy," he said, looking down at the floor. "But you and I both knew we just weren't working anymore."

Rick closed the door to Ned's office quietly behind him, but it did little to muffle the argument going on inside. Ned and Nancy were on full display with the large glass windows that looked into the bullpen of the office. Most of the officers in the station had gathered around to witness exactly what was going on inside. They stood there leaning against Rick's desk watching as Nancy arms flailed and Ned's vein bulged to the point they were pretty sure his carotid was going to burst.

"Ten bucks says they'll be doing it by the end of the week," one guy, James, said.

"I don't know, man," another said. "She looks pretty angry. I give it two, if she's still here by then."

"You're both wrong," Rick said. "I bet fifty she ends up at Nickerson's place _tonight_. They're totally having eye sex in there."

It was about that time Nancy stormed out, rattling the glass pane in the wooden door as she slammed it behind her. The men watched as she stormed out of the building and into the late afternoon sunshine and then turned back to look at Ned, who had sunk down to sit at his desk with his head propped up in his hands. The men looked at each other and then back at Ned before slowly starting to disperse and go back to their desks.

"I'll take that bet, Rick," James said. "There's no way she's ending up at Nickerson's. Not after that."

"We'll see," Rick said, smirking a little. "We'll see."

…

Nancy stood on the sidewalk in front of the police station tapping her foot impatiently as she waited for her cab. God, she'd forgotten how angry Ned could make her. They'd always been one of those couples where when they were good, they were great. They got along perfectly. But when they were bad, both of their tempers more than got the better of them. Nancy would be the first to admit that she wasn't always good at keeping her cool, but there was something about fighting with Ned that brought out the worst in her. She never lost her head quite like she did when she was fighting with him.

The yellow cab finally pulled up into the front the building and Nancy slipped inside. She gave the driver the address of her hotel and sank back against the grey leather seat that smelled faintly of body odor and cigarette smoke. The day was already a complete mess. She had another body, an ex-boyfriend, and apparently a serial killer with a vindictive agenda against her personally. Texas was just going to be a blast. After pulling out her cellphone, she scrolled through her contacts until she got to her dad and pressed the phone to her ear.

"Hey, Nan," Carson Drew said. "How's Texas?"

"Ned's here," she said, sighing heavily.

"Really?" he said. "How's he doing?"

"Oh, great," she replied. "Making me miserable."

"I'm sure it's not that bad. Ned never was one to hold a grudge."

"Not against you, maybe," she said, brushing her bangs back away from her face. "Listen, Dad, I need you to overnight me all of my old case files. They're in that filing cabinet in my room. The key's in the jar on my desk."

"What do you need those for?" he asked. "You and Ned taking a trip down memory lane?"

"No," she said. "No, they're for the case I'm working on."

"Your case? Aren't you down there for that serial killer? Do you think he knows you or something?"

"I can't really share the details, Dad. Not over the phone, but it's looking that way."

"Be careful, Nancy."

"I will," she said. "So, you'll overnight my files?"

"Sure thing," he promised. "Where should I send them to?"

Nancy gave him the address for the police station and then said goodbye just as the cab pulled up to her hotel. She gave the cab driver a couple of bills and then made her way inside. Thankfully there were no small children on the elevator that time, and she was able to ride the elevator up to her room in peace. As soon as she'd kicked the door shut behind her, Nancy tossed her satchel onto the bed and tore at the buttons of her suit jacket. She could feel how sticky her skin was from how much she'd sweat at the crime scene, and all she wanted was a cold shower.

The water felt good against her hot skin. She could feel the tension in her body slowly release under the steady spray of the shower. Hotels always had the best water pressure. The scent of her lavender body wash always helped sooth her frazzled nerves. Dammit. She'd left all of her files and everything at the police station. That meant having to contact Ned if she wanted to get anything done that night. That was why you should never storm out angry. God, that man turned her into a seventeen-year-old girl again. One look and she wasn't a strong, confident FBI agent anymore. She was a teenager worried about whether or not her boyfriend was going to ask her to prom, followed by whether or not she was going to be able to wrap up her current case in time to actual make it to prom.

She stayed in the shower until the water started turning cool and then wrapped herself in the fluffy white robe that the hotel provided. She started coming out her titan hair when there was a knock on the door. Making sure that the robe was tightly closed and knotted, she opened the door to a delivery guy holding a large bouquet of white anemones and peonies. Her favorites. Nancy thanked him and then smiled to herself as she closed the door and reached for the card. Ned certainly worked fast.

Ripping open the tiny white envelope, she smiled a little triumphantly to herself. He always had been the first one to cave after an argument. Ned never had been able to stand Nancy being mad at him. She still had a fully stocked jewelry box to prove it. Her fingers finally reached the small white card, and she pulled it out.

_I chose her because she looked like you_

The note and flowers fell to the ground as Nancy felt her knees go week beneath her. She sat down on the edge of the bed and stared blankly at the green carpet for a long moment. The shaking started in her fingers. She looked down and could see them trembling against the cream colored bed spread. It slowly moved up into her arms and through the rest of her body. She was shaking so hard she could barely hold her cell phone, let alone press the right buttons. Somehow she found the right number and pressed the phone to her ear.

"He knows where I am," she said, her voice as shaky as her hands. "He knows my room number, Ned."

"Pack up you stuff and go down to the lobby," Ned replied, gripping his phone so tightly he thought he might crack the screen. "Sit as close to the front desk as possible. I'll be there in ten minutes. I'm not going to let anything happen to you, Nan. He's not going to touch you."


End file.
